


Put me back together

by Blaugrana



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:45:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaugrana/pseuds/Blaugrana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cris doesn't enjoy losing to Leo but he can't deny that he does enjoy Leo.</p><p>Cris is pissed after losing a clasico, Leo helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put me back together

**Author's Note:**

> Set after a non-existent clasico (although the 5-0 in 2010 works quite well). I hate choosing titles. They're always either way to cheesy or don't fit :/  
> Wrote this a while back. Enjoy

To say Cris was mad would probably be an understatement and to say Barcelona (read Messi) weren’t to blame for it would be an utter lie. He’s angry and he has good reason to be considering he can practically already see the headlines of the next morning praising Messi’s saintly performance and condemning him for not making a difference in the match. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried his best but it had just been one of those games where he ran his heart out and yet nothing seemed to go right and the end result was still a damn frustrating loss. And Cris is hurt and just so very angry. At himself, at his team, at Barcelona and at Messi in particular.

Contrary to popular belief he doesn’t actually hate the little Argentine. Cris doesn’t really hate many people and he can’t even really fault Leo for being good at what he does because yes he does work hard and always gives his all. It’s just that everything always appeared to come so naturally, so easily to him and he never seemed to fully grasp how many people would kill to have an ounce of his talent, a single one of his awards. 

Cris supposes that’s just how Leo is, shy, self-conscious and unaware of the effects he has on people. Of the effects he has on Cris. Because to Cris Leo is one of the most adorable people on the entire planet. He just loves the way Leo’s hair always looks soft, how his eyes sometimes look so dark that they can be mistaken for black, how small he is in comparison to Cris and how he can be so timid off the pitch but will transform entirely once he touches a football. 

During games Cris is and always will be fully focused on what’s going on before him however when he’s all alone in a hotel room or sometimes even when he’s at home he finds his mind focusing on Leo’s firm grip on his hand before the match and how soft his skin had felt, how his smile had seemed so honest and warm, dimples pronounced. He’d rather not admit how many times he’d felt the need to touch himself while imagining that lithe body writhing beneath him, eyes pressed shut, cheeks flushed a deep red, little whimpers escaping his mouth. No he doesn’t hate Leo. Quite the opposite actually.

So when Cris opens his front door only to find Leo standing on his porch, head bowed, shoulders slumped, eyes trained on his shoe laces, he isn’t sure if he wants to punch him in the face or press him against a wall and make him moan. He does neither. Just stares at him mortified till Leo actually looks up at him, making eye contact and to Cris’ astonishment Leo doesn’t look unsure and he certainly isn’t uncertain when he shoves Cris back into his own house.

Leo’s lips swallow Cris’ grunt of surprise as they seal over his, surprisingly gentle yet passionate and Cris freezes, eyes wide, before he melts against Leo’s lips slightly parting his own to allow Leo’s tongue access. Cris threads his fingers through Leo’s hair and it really is as soft as he had imagined and he lets out a soft moan because Leo tastes sweet and just plain good. He’s nibbling playfully on Cris’ lower lip and it’s so hot. Cris feels like he’s on fire but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the faint taste of alcohol on Leo’s tongue.

Yet it’s only when Leo’s pressing him against the cushion of his sofa and he doesn’t even realize how he got there that he manages to pull back just slightly and actually look at Leo kneeling on top of him, pupils blown and slightly out of breath. It’s the most gorgeous thing he’s seen in a long long time. 

“You’re not ok.”

What gets Cris is that Leo sounds so sure even though they hardly know each other and he’s still spot on. To Cris it feels like Leo is winning again and it’s enough to reignite that spark of anger deep in Cris’ chest because no he isn’t alright but he’ll be damned if he lets Leo know that. He’ll be damned if Leo gets to seem him so weak and vulnerable. He’s about to object and tell Leo he has no idea what he’s talking about when Leo goes on:

“I know because I’m the same. I’m not ok after we lose and it really doesn’t matter who the opponent is but big losses are worse. I just want you to be ok. Let me make sure you’re alright.”

Cris huffs a bitter laugh into Leo’s collarbone, the taste of defeat still bitter on his tongue however he doesn’t stop Leo from pushing his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh. He probably should but literally can’t bring himself to. Leo is too close, his ass pressed against Cris’ quickly hardening dick and Cris wants him. Badly. A second later Leo’s crouched between his knees gazing up at him with shining brown eyes almost expectantly. Cris looks down and makes an inarticulate noise, because damn, he needs to feel him, wants to touch him, to be inside him right now—ass or mouth, he’s not picky. Still he needs to ask. 

„Are you drunk? “

„Mildly.“

The answer is so blunt and the tone makes it seem like it doesn’t change a thing when it really does. It changes everything. Cris wants to tell him to stop because he doesn’t want Leo to do anything he might regret in the morning but he can’t when Leo takes that moment to pull his boxers off entirely and swallow down his cock. He lets out a tiny little whimper and his hand unintentionally clenches in Leo’s hair as he feels his tongue swirl around the tip. 

Leo makes the sweetest little choking noise when Cris’ hips jerk forward out of reflex and for a moment Cris feels the need to apologize until Leo’s humming around his shaft and—

“Oh god”

His voice is hoarse and low and he hardly recognizes it himself. However Leo takes it as his cue to pull off entirely before pressing a kiss to the top almost apologetically and mouthing down the prominent vein on the side, dragging the tip of his tongue around the base before jerking him off a couple of times with his hand, grip a bit too tight, too firm, but oh so good at the same time.

All Cris can do is watch in awe as Leo slides his mouth back onto his cock engulfing it completely, nose pressing against his abdomen. His groan of approval is loud in the quiet living room although he’s too far-gone already to really notice. He feels light-headed, pleasure rippling through his body in waves that make his toes curl and back arch. 

Cris rolls his head back against the couch and shivers slightly because everything is so surreal unforeseen and he’s pretty sure he can feel the head of his cock nudge the back of Leo’s throat every time the younger man takes him in and Leo should probably be chocking, but he somehow manages not to and Cris is thankful for it. With a certain degree of fascination he watches his dick slide in and out of Leo’s mouth, watches Leo’s lips stretch wide around his girth and glisten in the dull light of the bedside lamp.

And fuck Leo has one hell of technique, dragging his tongue along the underside of his cock, sucking him deep into his throat, his mouth making wet noises that can only be labeled as obscene.

Cris can feel the orgasm building, tendrils of heat coiling in his stomach and he can’t stop himself from thrusting up into that hot, enticing mouth. This time however Leo seems to be expecting it and he doesn’t gag, just relaxes his throat and lets Cris fuck up into him and damn if that isn’t hot, he doesn’t know what is. He wonders if Leo will be this pliant and obedient when he fucks him. He certainly hopes so. 

He rakes his fingers through Leo’s hair pushing it away from his face so he can see him. Leo dutifully raises his eyes, locking them with Cris’. They’re deep brown like molten chocolate with a spark of something mischievous and Cris loves it. Leo chooses that moment to dig his fingers into Cris’ hips and suck. Hard. 

Cris can’t help but clench his hands in Leo’s hair jerking his face closer and then he’s coming with a strangled moan, hips stilling, dick still buried deep in Leo’s throat. His vision whites out for a moment, waves of pleasure running up his spine as orgasm washes over him. It takes him way too long to realize that his hands are grasping Leo’s hair far too tightly to be pleasant and that Leo’s breath is shallow as he attempts (and fails) to breathe around Cris’ cock. He pulls out frantically, cupping Leo’s face in remorse, rubbing soothing circles against his jaw as Leo sucks in air. 

He wants to apologize but Leo’s smiling at him gently, climbing into his lap and then kissing him slowly, languidly. Cris can taste himself on Leo’s tongue and the mere realization makes his cock twitch. He hadn’t grasped how much he wanted the smaller man until he was standing right in front of him, offering everything and it honestly scares him a bit. He pushes the thought out of his head for now. There would be enough time for that tomorrow. Enough time to worry about the world because right now Leo was here and he was going to enjoy this. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Leo pulls back slightly meeting his eyes again before flicking them down, focusing on Cris’ chest rather than the man himself, far too shy considering he had had Cris’ cock in his mouth just a few minutes ago. He tucks his face into Cris’ shoulder and mumbles, voice low, Argentine accent heavy and Cris has to concentrate to understand him properly.

“I know, but I wanted to. I thought maybe you’d like to return the favor, too, though …“

Cris can’t help but grin when Leo roles his hips slightly, head still pressed against Cris’ chest, making his hard-on evident. And yes, Cris would like that a lot actually.


End file.
